


No, Officer, I've Never Seen That Dragon Before In My Life

by Tanadin



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Death Mention (nobody we know), Gen, It wasn't meant to have plot but here we are, Just five dragons chilling and hiding from the law, Kinda Not Really Siblings, Mild Blood, Tirion is Just Sorta Here and we're not all entirely sure why
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-10-29 06:41:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10848558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tanadin/pseuds/Tanadin
Summary: With siblings, it's either "ride or die" or "no, officer, I've never seen that person before in my life."When you're a dragon- an illegal supernatural creature- hiding from the law, this is no different.Starring:-Alexstrasza as the responsible sister (that occasionally insists she's NOT related to you, no she's never seen you before, who even are you)-Ysera as the sister that sighs and makes everyone food when things go wrong-Nozdormu as the overdramatic theater kid-Neltharion as the accident-prone and danger-attracting mistake-Malygos as the overworked college student always bailing his idiot siblings out of trouble





	1. In Which Everyone is Freaking Out and Alexstrasza is Frankly Tired of it

Alexstrasza is awoken from her nap by her phone buzzing loudly.

Her eyes reluctantly slide open and she sits up, only taking a moment to stretch before unlocking her phone and checking the text. Unfortunately, some ‘helpful person’ (and it really could be anyone) went into her phone and changed all of her contact names and notifications yesterday, so she has no idea who anyone except Ysera is.

The text reads ‘alexa help im gonna die,’ so she narrows her eyes and wracks her brain for clues. The ‘Alexa’ bit narrows it down- no one but her siblings would call her that- and the drama of supposedly being near death makes her think instantly of Nozdormu or perhaps Neltharion. The improper grammar and capitalization immediately discards both Nozdormu and Malygos as suspects, and since she already has Ysera’s contact fixed, it must be Neltharion.

Alexstrasza: What did you get yourself into this time?

???: i dont know how this keeps happening, i promise i don’t

Alexstrasza sighs. _Definitely_ Neltharion. She takes a moment while he’s typing to fix his contact and rename him to something more recognizable than his phone number or some question marks. Honestly, she doesn’t know why she even bothers responding anymore when he gets himself into trouble- of all of her siblings, he’s the most accident-prone and draws trouble everywhere he goes.

Of course, he’s not _really_ her sibling. None of them are, except Ysera. It’s just that they’re such a tight-knit group working together to survive and remain hidden that there’s bound to be bonds formed, and when they’ve been together as long as they have, well…

Neltharion: look i promise its not my fault, i got startled

Neltharion: my claws MAY have popped out when some guy grabbed my shoulder and i think i ripped his arm off

Alexstrasza holds her face in her hands before her phone buzzes again, and this time it’s from a different number.

???: If Neltharion is telling you he ripped a man’s arm off, don’t believe him. He only scratched the man before bolting.

That’s probably Malygos. He’s always there to make sure that Neltharion doesn’t get himself into too much trouble. She fixes his contact before responding.

Alexstrasza: Do you think he’ll report it?

Malygos: Doubtful. I didn’t get a good look before we took off, but I think it could be passed off as Neltharion just having really sharp nails. Fortunately, he’s not exactly recognizable.

Malygos: Then again, I am. Let’s hope he doesn’t recall that we were standing together.

He’s right about that. Neltharion has a knack for blending into crowds until he does something stupid and gets himself into trouble. Malygos tends to stand out more, as does Nozdormu. Ysera and Alexstrasza herself are not exactly unobtrusive either, but they’re invisible next to Nozdormu when he starts being dramatic.

Sometimes she wonders why she puts up with these idiots. She decides to just let Neltharion and Malygos figure this out themselves and gets up, shoving her phone in her pocket and leaving the room to find Ysera making food in the kitchen.

“What time is it?”

Ysera turns, an eyebrow raised. She’s tall, just like they all are, with bright blue eyes framed by her (supposedly) dyed green hair. She has matching green tattoos on her face, which do nothing to help her blend in. Currently, she’s in her pajamas, green with little sleeping blue lizards on them that are dreaming of cartoon crickets.

It’s cute, if not particularly subtle.

“It’s about seven in the evening. You slept for three hours.”

Alexstrasza cringes. “I should have set an alarm.”

“I expected you to sleep until two in the morning,” Ysera admits, stirring the boiling pot she’s standing next to. “Any idea when the others will be home?”

“Late,” Alexstrasza replies, sitting down on the couch in the connected living room. “Neltharion got himself into trouble again and Malygos is probably getting him back home. He texted me for help but, really, he doesn’t need it.”

“And Nozdormu?”

“He’ll probably be back around midnight or whenever his theater group lets out. You know how they like to stay late.”

“Hmm. Well, in any case, that’s more for us.”

“Did you really start making an entire box of pasta when you were only sure that _you_ would be here and awake?”

“There’s always leftovers.”

Alexstrasza nods, slowly accepting that, before the front door swings open to reveal Malygos with Neltharion not far behind.

Malygos is a direct reverse of Ysera, with green eyes that are either mirthful or annoyed with no inbetween. His hair is (also supposedly) dyed blue and is just as long as Ysera’s if not longer. He’s currently in his jeans and a long-sleeved blue shirt, which, while not surprising, looks a bit monotonous with his hair.

Neltharion, meanwhile, is almost normal in appearance. He has short black hair and light brown eyes that only betray their orange tinge when you look at them closely. He’s the tallest of them and looks the strongest, but he’s a pushover when it comes to his siblings. He’s in a t-shirt and black jeans, and Alexstrasza could almost believe him human.

“What a surprise,” she says wryly as they come in and close the door. “You’re not dead.”

“He _saw_ my claws,” Neltharion mutters. “I _could_ get reported.”

“You’re nondescript. What’s he going to say? ‘A guy with black hair nearly ripped my arm off’? The only chance of you getting found out is if he noticed Malygos.”

“I don’t think he did.” Malygos sits down in his chair on the other side of the coffee table, immediately reclining and leaning back. “I was behind him and humans aren’t known to be terribly perceptive.”

“You have blue hair,” Neltharion protests.

“I doubt you’ll have much trouble. In better news, the macaroni and cheese is almost done.” Ysera taps the lip of the pot with a spoon. “How can you worry when we have mac and cheese?”

“How indeed.” Malygos shuts his eyes. Alexstrasza is surprised that he doesn’t have his backpack with him- he must have come home and dropped it off before heading out to find Neltharion. As a college student, Malygos’ bag isn’t exactly unobtrusive, usually filled with papers, books, and far too many notes and pens. He’s _meticulous_ about his notes and makers help you if you take one of his pens by mistake.

“We may want to take magic suppressors just to be safe,” Alexstrasza mutters. “If the police find us, I don’t want them figuring out who we are.”

Her siblings all groan and Malygos covers his face with his hands.

“It’s unpleasant enough for you, think about me.”

“It’s better than being shot or whatever happens to supernaturals that are found out.”

And that was the crux of the matter.

Anyone found to be magical or inhuman was immediately arrested and then, presumably, killed. For five dragons, discovery was death. Magic suppressor pills would prevent their magic readings from being detected by most tests as long as they were careful and focused, but they weren’t foolproof, and made them feel weak and stopped their powers nearly completely when taken.

Neltharion sighs and sits down on the couch next to Alexstrasza. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “He grabbed my arm and I panicked.”

Alexstrasza pats his shoulder reassuringly. “It happens, although it seems to happen to you the most.”

“It’s like you’re afraid of something happening,” Malygos comments. “Almost like you think someone is going to take control of you.”

Neltharion shivers. “Stop that. You’re going to make me paranoid.”

“Please don’t,” Ysera calls. “It’ll spread to Nozdormu and then he’ll insist we have to leave the country.”

Malygos snorts in amusement. “Can you imagine trying to change countries? We’d have to take magic suppressors for weeks. I’d rather take my chances _here.”_

Alexstrasza almost jumps out of her skin as the door slams open. She’s about ready to run or set fire to the intruder when she realizes its Nozdormu. She almost sets him on fire anyway.

Nozdormu has brilliant blue eyes and long brown hair that shimmers faintly bronze in the light. He’s the second most unobtrusive at a glance, but the way he acts and how loudly he speaks tends to draw attention. He’s soft-spoken when serious but loud and dramatic when he’s not and it can be fairly frustrating. He’s in long tan pants and a brown t-shirt emblazoned with some symbol that Alexstrasza doesn’t recognize,.

He shuts the door before saying, far too loudly, “We need to leave the country.”

Ysera shoots Malygos a poisonous look. Alexstrasza sighs. “What did you do?”

“I’ve embarrassed myself in front of my coworkers and we have to leave so that I don’t have to face them ever again.”

Neltharion shoots Alexstrasza a disbelieving glance, which is ridiculous considering how long they’ve all known each other by now.

“I ripped into a man’s arm with my claws today and _you’re_ the reason we need to leave the country?”

“Yes.” Nozdormu flops down on Neltharion’s other side. “How can I ever live with-”

“Food’s ready,” Ysera announces, draining the water from the pot.

Nozdormu immediately jumps to his feet. “Food?”

“Food,” Malygos agrees, getting up. “I feel like this will solve most of our problems.”

“One can hope.” Alexstrasza stands as well and waits for Ysera to finish mixing in the cheese before getting a bowl and sitting down at the table, watching the others quarrel over serving amounts.

She can’t help but smile slightly.

No matter how frustrating they can be, they’re still her siblings, blood related or not.

And she loves them to pieces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first thing I've posted on Ao3 although not my first writing project or fanwork, so thank you for reading. <3 I may very well write more of this and I'll update if I do. Let me know if you'd like to see more and I'll get right on it.
> 
> Sorry if anyone was a bit out of character, but hey, what can you do when your source material is five stuffy dragon aspects who like to look imposing in front of mortals?


	2. In Which Neltharion Panics and is Less Than Unobtrusive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuff actually happens in this chapter, and we get to see more of Neltharion! Isn't it great how he's not evil and crazy and breaking the world? Pretty great. I'm so glad Blizzard let us have this.
> 
> What? I'm not salty.
> 
> Warning for a quick mention of blood and a dead dragon (nobody we know!) in a photograph.

Neltharion isn’t sure whether or not he’s surprised when he’s stopped in the street by a couple of police officers asking if he’ll come in for questioning about an… _unusual_ incident.

He’s not surprised, because of course the _incident_ happened yesterday, and he _is_ surprised because they managed to pick him out of the crowd. Of course, one of the officers seems slightly familiar, and he has a feeling that she brought him in _last_ time he was suspected of being a supernatural being.

He’s suddenly very glad that Alexstrasza insisted that they all take magic suppressors. His limbs feel heavier than usual because of them and his senses are dulled but, really, it’s a small price to pay to avoid detection. Sure that they have no idea that he’s a dragon- although they’re probably suspicious that he’s a _something-_ he shrugs nonchalantly and agrees to go in. Trying to avoid it would result in suspicion, and he’d have to give them his name and address- not that they can’t pull that up, anyway- and possibly get his siblings in trouble in case one of them forgot to- or just flat-out _didn’t-_ take the magic suppressors.

Neltharion, despite his calm, if worried, demeanor, is on the verge of panic the entire way to the police station and it takes all of his will to quiet the magic torrent in his core when they pull out the deep-reading detector or _whatever_ they’re calling it these days. The magic suppressors keep the passive detectors- what the police tend to point at them first, as they did when they first approached him- from figuring them out, and make the more powerful ones less _likely_ to detect their magic, but it still takes a lot of will and focus to hide.

The detector remains silent. Neltharion resists heaving a sigh of relief. He’s taken into another room, where two officers- the woman from before and another man, one he doesn’t recall seeing before- pepper him with questions about the incident. It’s mostly the woman speaking, while the man watches him carefully with intelligent brown eyes.

Neltharion, of course, denies all knowledge of the incident. It wasn’t a big thing, after all- why would he know anything about a man being scratched in the city streets? The woman says that he matches the man’s description of his attacker, and Neltharion politely points out that there are quite a few men out there with brown eyes and black hair.

The woman narrows her eyes and leans closer to him, the intensity of her gaze enough to make Neltharion want to pull out his wings and hide in them. “There are, yes, but not many are known to stand around with blue-haired men.”

Ah. So he’d seen Malygos, then.

“Anyone can dye their hair blue. I don’t see how Malygos or I have anything to do with-”

“Coincidences of this type are often not that,” the man says from his position leaning against the wall.

“Not very many creatures could cause the damage inflicted on that man’s arm,” the woman continues. “Vampire, werewolf, shifter.” She pauses. “Dragon.”

Neltharion refuses to meet her eyes.

“You’ve been brought in under suspicion of being supernatural before, correct?”

“That’s right. I was deemed innocent, as was my brother Malygos.”

“And you have… how many siblings?”

“Four. All nonmagical.”

“Why were you brought in previously?”

Neltharion shrugs slightly. “Someone thought they saw me with orange eyes, with pupils like a lizard. Trick of the light, I guess.” He resists gulping and forces himself to look into her eyes, trying not to look guilty. He shifts his eyebrows to look annoyed, but he thinks he only pulls off concerned.

“Hmm.” The woman sits down in the chair across from him. “Tell me, Neltharion. What do you know about dragons?”

Then, Neltharion makes the stupidest decision of his life.

He panics. That’s the only excuse for what he says next, and he knows it’s a flimsy one, but it’s the only thing he can think to say in a quick instant to remove himself from suspicion.

“What’s a dragon?”

Instantly, he realizes that he’s the biggest idiot in the entire world. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

The woman’s eyebrows shoot up and Neltharion knows that he’s completely, totally, irreversibly fucked.

He should have just said he didn’t know much. Listed some general knowledge off. Maybe even insisted that they weren’t real.

But to not know what a dragon _was?_

“Mr… what did you say your last name was?”

“Aspect.” He hates Nozdormu and his drama, sometimes. What a stupid last name.

The woman’s eyebrows rise further. “Mr… Aspect, then. Surely you know what a dragon is? Are you really-”

“I mean, yes, I know what a dragon is! I meant to say that they’re simply not real- your question caught me by surprise.”

“Not real,” the woman replies flatly.

“Not real,” Neltharion says, instilling false confidence into his voice.

“Tirion, could you pull up the last dragon taken down? Back in August?”

“Sure.” The other officer- Tirion, Neltharion supposes- pulls out his phone and unlocks it, although he grimaces slightly as he does so. The woman remains silent while he goes through whatever the hell he’s looking in until he hands it over.

The woman places Tirion’s phone on the table and slides it over for Neltharion to look at. He glances down at the picture and can’t stop the sharp intake of breath, can’t stop the widening of his eyes, and can’t stop the swirl of horrified nausea in his stomach.

It’s the picture of a dragon.

Not just a dragon, but a _black_ dragon, with obsidian scales as dark as Neltharion’s own. Its mouth is open in a gaping roar, although its eyes are dull in death. Its scales are flecked with blood, although the wound that ended its life is, thankfully, not visible in the picture.

_“That_ is your nonexistent dragon,” the woman scoffs, returning the phone to Tirion. “They’re _quite_ real, Neltharion Aspect.”

Neltharion swallows down the bile in his throat. “I… I suppose they are.”

They question him for awhile longer and put him through another scan before the woman reluctantly admits that they have no reason to detain him longer. Just as she tells him that he’s free to go, however, Tirion speaks up.

“Do you have a ride home?”

“Erm, no. I’ll be walking.”

“I’d like to drive you home to make sure that you don’t get into any...incidents.”

The look in Tirion’s eyes sets off most of Neltharion’s mental alarms. A chill runs down his spine. “No, thank you. I can walk.”

As the woman leaves the room, Tirion stops leaning on the wall and walks closer. “I insist. As an apology for detaining you.”

Neltharion can’t think of a way to say no without arousing suspicion, so he gives Tirion his address, gets in his car- thankfully it’s his _actual_ car, and not his patrol vehicle- and sits tight in the back seat.

A couple minutes into the drive, Tirion asks him a question. Neltharion would have been stupid not to expect it, although the exact question confuses him.

“How old are you?”

Neltharion blinks in surprise. He should know that. It was on his file. “I’m twenty-thr-”

“No.” Tirion’s eyes flick up to the rearview mirror, locking eyes with Neltharion temporarily at a red light. “How old are you, really?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” The lie is smooth, practiced, but Tirion doesn’t seem convinced. He doesn’t speak for almost a minute, though, and Neltharion almost relaxes before he speaks again.

“Your magic suppressors are good. The devices didn’t pick up on anything at all.”

Every muscle in Neltharion’s body freezes. He tries to relax, tries to look innocent, but all he manages is a strangled “What?”

“I only know through practice and a whole lot of people-watching. Don’t worry. No one else back at the station knows.”

Neltharion resists the urge to bare his teeth, trying not to panic. “Where are you taking me?”

“Home. Presumably to your siblings.”

“You’re not going to shoot me or whatever?”

“No.” Tirion’s eyes meet his, briefly, but they move back down to the road. “I’m on your side.”

“How can I know that?”

“I didn’t tell anyone, did I?” Tirion asks dryly, and Neltharion has to admit that, no, he didn’t. “But, seriously,” he continues, “‘What’s a dragon?’ Are you kidding?”

“I panicked!” Neltharion says, defensive. “Look, I’m going to get my ass chewed enough by Alexa and Malygos, I don’t need _your-”_

“Malygos. Is he a dragon as well? And Alexa?”

Neltharion almost hits himself in the forehead. Stupid stupid dumb! He is the biggest idiot alive and he knows it. He shuts his mouth and glares at the mirror.

Tirion sighs and pulls into Neltharion’s neighborhood. “I’m not going to hurt any of you.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“You don’t have to.”

“My siblings won’t like this.”

“They don’t have to, either.”

Neltharion keeps his arms crossed until Tirion pulls into the driveway and shuts the car off. “I’d like to meet your siblings, if I may.”

“I don’t suppose I can stop you?”

“No. You can’t.” Tirion gets out of the car, with Neltharion not far behind.

Neltharion reluctantly leads the way up to the door, but he lets Tirion knock. There’s some mumbling on the inside and eventually the door opens to show Nozdormu- the least suspicious of the four inside, which was a smart if unnecessary move- and his raised eyebrows climb higher at the sight of Tirion, who is still in his police getup. He glances at Neltharion before nodding slightly to someone out of sight, probably their other siblings.

“Hello, officer. What’s happened with Neltharion?”

“He was taken in for questioning earlier,” Tirion says pleasantly. “I’m just dropping him off.” As Nozdormu starts to look relieved, however, Tirion continues, “Your magic suppressors are quite good. Where do you get them?”

Nozdormu freezes before looking back towards their hidden siblings and saying, once again, far too loudly, “I _told_ you we should have left the country.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why Tirion? He was the first person I could come up with who might fit this role that wasn't Lorna Crowley, and I chose him over Lorna because he's more involved with the dragons than she is.
> 
> Which is, admittedly, not saying a whole lot.


	3. In Which Nozdormu is Nozdormu and Tirion Has a Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long since the last chapter! A combination of finals and fiddling to get a book published pushed this chapter way back in my priorities but here it is in all of it's Nozdormu-pov glory.
> 
> Warning for some mentions of dragon death. This is pretty grim for an everyone lives AU.

Nozdormu’s statement is met by annoyed looks and frowns before the gravity of Tirion’s statement sinks in and they all freeze, muscles locked and faces grim. To his credit, Neltharion looks the calmest of the bunch, excluding the sheer terror in his eyes. Nozdormu quietly wonders what stupid thing Neltharion did to get them caught before dismissing it, figuring that it’s not important.

“So what happens now?” Alexstrasza asks, slowly stepping into Tirion’s line of sight. Her yellow eyes appraise him with false confidence, a calmness seeping out of her that he knows is just being wrung from her tense limbs. She’s good at acting, if nothing else, but based on Tirion’s expression she’s not fooling anybody.

“Well, hopefully I get invited in and then we sit down and have a conversation.” Tirion’s voice is pleasant, but not overly so. “I’m not going to turn you in. No one else at the station knows.”

“He did say that earlier,” Neltharion confirms. His fingers drum together in a familiar anxious pattern. “And the detectors didn’t notice me at all.”

Nozdormu exchanges a glance with Ysera before stepping aside. “Come in, then.” As he shuts the door behind Tirion and Neltharion, he suddenly wishes he hadn’t taken the magic suppressor earlier so that he could close all of the blinds with a simple spell. He shoots a pleading look at Malygos, who arches an eyebrow.

Nozdormu makes a hand motion, the one that would usually accompany a minor spell, then points at the blinds. Malygos’ eyebrow arches higher and he tilts his head slightly. Nozdormu snaps his fingers and points at the blinds more insistently. He _has_ to be able to pull off a spell that small, even with the suppressor. He’s _Malygos!_

Malygos’ second eyebrow joins the first and his mouth twitches into an amused expression. He snaps his fingers and makes the hand motion. The feeling of magic in the air is almost a relief to Nozdormu’s starved core, and the closing of the blinds around the house is a satisfying noise.

Tirion’s eyebrow shoots up but he doesn’t say anything, instead sitting down in one of the chairs in the living room. He waits for everyone else to sit before speaking.

“You’re not very subtle, you know.”

“Not a lot we can do about that,” Alexstrasza replies immediately. “We have very little control over what the humanoid forms we take look like. It’s hard enough keeping the skin tones in the human range.”

“No, not that, although some of you are a bit… obvious.” Tirion’s eyes shift over to Ysera momentarily. “I meant more in the way you _act.”_

Everyone turns to look at Nozdormu.

“I didn’t do anything!” he protests, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “It’s _Neltharion_ that got us discovered.”

Neltharion kicks at the floor and finds his shoes very interesting.

Tirion leans forward in his seat. “Neltharion, would you care to repeat what you said when my coworker asked you about dragons?”

Neltharion mutters something negative.

“Neltharion,” Alexstrasza says. Oh no. She’s using her severe voice. She’s becoming the mom friend before their very eyes. Nozdormu almost can’t watch. “What did you say?”

He mumbles something.

“‘What’s a dragon?’” Tirion repeats, loud enough for them to hear.

Alexstrasza stares at Neltharion and he shrinks into his seat. Ysera holds her head in her hands. Malygos snorts quietly but shakes his head in slight disappointment.

Nozdormu loses his shit.

It takes him nearly a minute to stop laughing, during which everyone is watching him in various levels of annoyance and confusion. 

_“What’s a dragon?”_ he demands once he can breathe, and is overcome by another fit of laughter.

“I panicked,” Neltharion mumbles, sinking further into his seat.

Alexstrasza clears her throat and crosses her arms. “So...officer.”

“Tirion,” he interrupts, then waves for her to continue.

“Tirion. What do you want? Why are you here?”

“I’m here to tell you to be more subtle. I just want to help.” His gaze darkens. “I’m not exactly nonmagical myself, and I’ve lost a lot of good people to minor mistakes.” His fists tighten momentarily, then relax. “A lot of good people.”

Nozdormu suddenly feels a lot less amused by Neltharion’s earlier mistake. 

Neltharion gulps a few times. “I almost got us killed,” he whispers.

“You did,” Tirion confirms.

“We’re lucky you were there, then,” Ysera says, eyes flicking to Alexstrasza, holding a meaning that Nozdormu totally misses. While they can read each other’s expressions and eye movements fairly easily, Alexstrasza and Ysera have always had a level of communication the others can only aspire to.

“Indeed. I also wanted to ask you something, assuming you were amenable.” He shifts slightly in his seat. “I ran across another dragon a few weeks ago, and I was wondering if he was someone you knew.”

The tension in the room is almost immediately dispelled. “Another dragon?” Malygos asks, curious. “We haven’t seen a dragon outside of us five in a long time.”

“Fourteen years and six months, plus or minus a week,” Nozdormu supplies. “That was when we lost...uhm…” He glances at Alexstrasza and shuts his mouth. “It’s been awhile.”

Tirion looks pained. “You lost one of your number?”

“Yes.” Alexstrasza’s voice carries more of a snap than she likely intends. “It’s not to be discussed. Who is this dragon you’ve found?”

Tirion nods and leans back in his seat. “Well, he goes by the name Krasus. Does that ring any bells?”

They all shake their heads.

“I’d like to meet him, though,” Neltharion puts in. “I mean, if that’s okay. We have to stick together, or at least have a support system, you know?”

“Are there any others with him? Anyone that he knows?” Malygos asks, leaning forward with interest. Nozdormu can practically hear the gears turning in his head. 

Tirion shakes his head. “No. He said his clan was lost, but he refused to talk much about it. He won’t even come into the city. He’s too scared of a repeat of last time, but what happened is a bit of a mystery to me. Presumably they were caught and he was the only survivor.” He sighs. “At least he got out. Would you like to meet him?”

Several affirmative nods.

It’s easier said than done to figure out who’s riding in which car, and eventually it’s Neltharion and Nozdormu that get booted into Tirion’s vehicle because Malygos’ car only fits four, no one wants to go with Tirion alone, and Alexstrasza’s soccer mom van is currently in the shop for repairs. She hates it when people call it a soccer mom van (‘whelpling wagon’ is also frowned upon) so Nozdormu takes every opportunity to call it that, although preferably not to her face. He wonders if his shoulder is still bruised and a gentle poke leads to a burst of pain and a displeased expression.

Tirion glances up at the rearview mirror and raises an eyebrow. This man has _uncanny_ timing, and while it’s one of Nozdormu’s many amusing and useful traits, he’s slowly discovering that it’s a lot less fun when it’s being used against him. “You okay back there?”

“Yeah, just found a bruise from the last time I called Alexa’s car the soccer mom van to her face.”

Neltharion frowns at him. “That was over a week ago.”

Nozdormu sniffs disdainfully. “I have delicate skin.”

“What did she do, beat you with an umbrella? When I punch you, you don’t even complain.”

“It was Malygos’ backpack,” Nozdormu admits. “There’s _four textbooks_ in that thing.”

Neltharion looks moderately horrified and Tirion just looks concerned.

“Is this...normal?”

“You didn’t fight with your siblings?” Neltharion asks. “I know humans are different than dragons, but...”

“I don’t have any siblings.” Tirion grips the wheel tighter. “And the people I could call my siblings are long gone.”

The car ride is very quiet after that.

Tirion drives them out to the mountains, and Nozdormu’s glances through the back window confirm that Malygos is following them in his convertible with Alexstrasza and Ysera in the back. The roof is up, which is unfortunate, because it’s really funny to watch everyone’s long hair go streaming behind them, but Nozdormu supposes that it’s up because Alexstrasza isn’t an enormous fan of that and Ysera doesn’t usually have a preference. Malygos could usually go either way, but Neltharion and Nozdormu both love having the roof down. 

There’s a reason that Nozdormu isn’t allowed in that car. The look Neltharion shoots him tells him that he is also remembering the last time Nozdormu got a little bit dramatic in traffic and, well, it’s best to just say that he perhaps did not stay in the car the entire ride.

Imagine Alexstrasza’s horror when he announced he was going to start riding the bus to the theater.

Nozdormu grins at the memory and doesn't notice that they’ve stopped until Tirion shuts off the engine and unbuckles his seatbelt. “We’re here.”

Nozdormu doesn’t see much of anything but he shrugs it off, jumping out of the car and looking around. They’re in the middle of nowhere, as far as he can tell, although he quickly notices the entrance to a cave that he had somehow missed before. Squinting at it provides a faint shimmering distortion to its edges, and Malygos mumbles something about an illusion spell as he gets out of the convertible.

Ah. That would explain it.

“Krasus,” Tirion calls once everyone is out of their respective vehicles. “I brought some visitors.”

A voice drifts out of the darkness, one oddly familiar but Nozdormu can’t quite place where he’s heard it before.

“Visitors?”

“Dragons, like you. It’s safe to come out.”

As Krasus steps out of the cave, Nozdormu’s powers flicker, trying to tell him something, but the magic suppressant keeps them from being useful in any way. He narrows his eyes and looks closer at Krasus, frowning, because he’s _familiar._

Krasus has bright blond hair and brilliant green eyes that look at them first with distrust, then shock, and then they flood with tears. His eyes locked on Alexstrasza and he chokes out her name, reaching forward, and suddenly the familiar dam in Nozdormu’s mind is broken.

“Korialstrasz!”

As his name rips itself from Nozdormu’s throat, the others seem to recognize him. Alexstrasza immediately bursts into heavy sobs and runs forward. The parted red dragons hug each other tightly as the rest of them overcome _years_ of grief in seconds, shock completely taking over.

Later, if anyone asked Nozdormu about the tears running down his face, he would say that it was just good acting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep! Trying not to have plot! And it's not working! I'm an angst writer at heart and I'm trying to write this lighthearted funny thing and I don't know how well I'm doing but I hope it's satisfactory.


	4. In Which Malygos Is Tired of Early-Morning Shenanigans and is Late For Class

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Me: hmm I dont know if I'll ever work on this fic again, I'm putting so much work into my books and the other fic I'm planni-  
> Three people: leave kudos  
> Me: *SLAM DUNKS MYSELF DIRECTLY INTO THE DOCUMENT* ITS TIME FOR CHAPTER FOUR

Malygos is jerked awake by the sounds of crashing in the kitchen.

He groans and cracks a reluctant eyelid open, blearily trying to see what time it is. He has a class at ten, so if it's before eight, it's not worth checking out even if someone’s dying.

The cheerful green numbers on his alarm clock read 7:56. He sighs in defeat- he can't justify going back to sleep for four minutes. He switches off the alarm, sits up, and stretches, sore limbs protesting at the movement.

Malygos frowns. He doesn't usually sleep in an odd position, and while he's pondering the change in his sleep patterns something else falls over in the kitchen.

“Dammit, man,” Nozdormu’s voice rings, all too clearly, “you've been back from the dead for less than twelve hours and you're _already_ wrecking the kitchen.”

“It's been awhile and you guys have moved everything,” Korialstrasz protests, his voice much quieter. “Be quiet. The others are trying to sleep.”

“What, through _that_ racket?”

Well, that's typical.

Malygos is halfway out of bed before he smacks himself on the forehead and scrambles to get dressed. This _isn’t_ typical! They had Korialstrasz back! Back, after fourteen years! The relief sinks through Malygos’ muscles and soothes some injury on his heart, making him audibly sigh as he tugs on clothes and bursts out of his room.

“Korialstrasz!”

He turns and arches an eyebrow, leaving Nozdormu to scoop up several pots and pans off the floor. “Yes?”

“I…” Malygos chokes on his words as they stick in his throat, dozens of sentences clumping together. He swallows them down and settles for, “It’s good to see you home again.”

Korialstrasz smiles. “It’s good to be home.”

“You say that, and yet, here you are, ruining everything,” Nozdormu gripes from the floor.

Malygos sighs and makes a hand gesture, sending all of the scattered dishes back into their respective homes. Nozdormu straightens up and crosses his arms. “Show-off.”

“You would have complained if I hadn’t done that.”

“And?”

Malygos shakes his head and looks back to Korialstrasz. “What are you trying to do with these?”

Korialstrasz shoots Nozdormu a dirty look. “Searching. Someone is hiding the bowls from me.”

“I’m not _hiding_ them!” Nozdormu squawks.

“They’re to the left of the refrigerator,” Ysera sleepily calls from her bedroom. She leans on the doorframe, watching them all with eyes that never seem to be tired but always manage to look sleepy.

It’s a weird thing but Malygos figures that they’re weird people.

Korialstrasz cheerfully thanks his sister-in-law and goes rummaging through the cupboards. Nozdormu moodily shoves a couple of waffles in the toaster oven and pretends to be annoyed for the three minutes it takes for him to become distracted with something else.

Unfortunately, that ‘something else’ happens to be Malygos as he’s sitting down to eat some cereal before class.

“Malygos.”

He ignores him. It can’t be that important, and certainly not at eight in the morning.

“Malygos.”

He shovels another spoonful of cheerios into his mouth and dully wonders who let Alexstrasza buy them all healthy food.

“Malygos.”

_“What.”_

Nozdormu leans into his peripheral vision. “Would you take me to the theater this morning on your way to class? We have early rehearsal.”

Malgos sighs. “Didn’t you announce that you were never going back and we had to leave the country because you embarrassed yourself?”

“What? No. I’d never be so dramatic.”

Korialstrasz bites back a snort and Malygos almost chokes on his cereal, coughing a few times before looking up at Nozdormu with disbelief.

“Nozdormu.”

“Yes?”

“I believe that your middle name is drama.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Will you take me or not?”

Malygos rolls his eyes. “Why can’t you take the bus?”

“That’s not an answer to my question.”

“Nozdormu.”

“That’s my name, yeah.”

Malygos puts down his spoon and turns his body to face him. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t _do_ anything.”

“Lying isn’t becoming of a dragon,” Ysera calls.

“You lied to Neltharion about Santa!”

“I didn’t think he actually believed me!”

“I did!” Neltharion’s offended voice comes from the couch in the living room. “I felt so _betrayed_ when Alexa told me!”

“Alexstrasza needs to keep her mouth shut,” Ysera mumbles, slipping back into her room.

Malygos’ eyes return to Nozdormu. “So what _did_ you do on the bus?”

“Nothing much.”

“Nothing much,” Malygos repeats, voice flat.

“I only set fire to the bus driver when he made a rude comment about having to take a couple minutes to get a girl in a wheelchair on the bus.” As Malygos’ eyes widen and his mouth opens to say something in response, Nozdormu hastily adds, “It was only a little bit! No one saw me!”

Malygos’ mouth shuts. Then opens. Then shuts.

“I love you,” Neltharion announces from the next room over. “Best brother ever.”

Nozdormu jumps up and flings himself across the house and over the back of the couch to give Neltharion a high-five.

Malygos glances at the clock and goes back to eating his cereal.

He doesn’t have the time for this.

When it’s time to head out and go to class, Nozdormu tosses himself into the passenger-side seat beside Malygos and bounces excitedly as they buckle in and Malygos gets the car started.

“Can we lower the roof?”

“No.”

“What’s the point of owning a convertible if you’re not going to lower the roof?!”

“It is _way_ too early to be having bugs flying past me at forty miles per hour.”

“It’s _never_ too early for bugs that fast.”

“I don’t know what you think the word _never_ means, but you’re dead wrong.” Malygos takes the car out of park, backs out of the driveway, and takes off down the street, following his normal route to school while making a mental note to divert a few minutes before he gets there to drop Nozdormu off.

Although the idea of bringing Nozdormu to his AP Physics class is entertaining, it probably wouldn’t go over well with anyone, _including_ Nozdormu himself and Alexstrasza, not to mention his professor and lab partner.

Halfway through the drive, Nozdormu says, in a much more muted tone than normal, “It’s nice having Korialstrasz back.”

“It is,” Malygos agrees. “When I woke up and heard him, I thought that nothing had changed. For a moment, it was fourteen years ago, and I was waking up to you guys having an argument while Alexstrasza smiled at you fondly and the rest of us tried to sleep.”

“I thought that I’d dreamed him returning,” Nozdormu confesses. “I woke up and thought, well, that was a nice dream, it’s a shame it isn’t real. Then I thought about Alexa, and how I was glad that it was me that had that dream and not her, because it probably would have upset her.” His fingers toy with one of his many fidget cubes, produced from a pocket at random. “Then I decided to go check on her, and there he was, snuggled up with her like nothing had ever changed.” A shudder wracks his body. “Like it hasn’t been fourteen years. Like they didn’t lose each other.”

Malygos nods, swallowing a sudden tightness in his throat. “It was hard on all of us, but I can’t imagine how he felt.”

“I’m too afraid to ask.”

They sit in silence for a few more minutes before Malygos finally says, “I wonder why he was up so early this morning. I would’ve thought that he’d sleep in and stay with Alexa for as long as he could.”

“He wanted to make her breakfast.”

“He- what?”

“He wanted to make her breakfast,” Nozdormu repeats. “Like he used to on holidays and special occasions.”

Malygos has to pull over at that, because shit, he’s going to cry and if he does that while driving he’s going to crash.

He and Nozdormu take a few minutes to compose themselves before he pulls back out into traffic and drops Nozdormu off at the theater. He pushes the speed limit and finds a spot to park on campus just as class starts. _Dammit._

Malygos throws his backpack over his shoulder and bolts through the halls, almost slipping on the stairs on the way up. He arrives to class four minutes late, but the professor isn’t there yet, so he’s in the clear. He falls into his seat beside his lab partner and takes a moment to breathe before he even bothers to think about pulling out his homework from the previous day.

Sindra raises an eyebrow. “I’ve never known you to be late before.”

“Had to drop my brother off at the theater. Misjudged the timing.” Malygos sits up as the professor comes into the classroom, pulling out his role sheet and checking people off, unaware of Malygos’ tardiness. “Doesn’t count.”

“Lucky you,” Sindra says dryly. “Did you remember to do your homework?”

“Barely.”

“Busy day yesterday?”

The corners of Malygos’ mouth twitch upwards.

“Yeah. You could say that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I feed entirely off of praise and recognition. Sue me.  
> Looks like next chapter will likely be a Ysera POV, as she's the only Aspect we haven't seen through the eyes of yet.
> 
> Also, Sindra. ;)


End file.
